Chapter III: Preface (3)

When Vesuvius first showed signs of the coming storm the air was still, as we learn from the description of Pliny, and the smoke of the mountain rose up straight, until the atmosphere would bear it no higher, and then spread on all sides into a canopy, suggesting to him the idea of an enormous pine tree. After this a wind sprung up from the west, which was favorable to carry Pliny from Misenum to Stabiæ, but prevented his return. The next morning probably it veered something to the north, when, in the younger Pliny's words, a cloud seemed to descend upon the earth, to cover the sea, and hide the Isle of Capreæ from his view. The ashes are said by Dion Cassius to have reached Egypt, and in fact a line drawn southeast from Vesuvius would pass very near Pompeii, and cut Egypt. It was probably at this moment that the hail of fire fell thickest at Pompeii, at daybreak on the second morning, and if any had thus long survived the stifling air and torrid earth which surrounded them, their misery probably was at this moment brought to a close. The villa of which we speak lay exactly between the city and the mountain, and must have felt the first, and, if there were degrees of misery, where all perished alike, the worst effects of this fearful visitation. Fearful is such a visitation in the present day, even to those who crowd to see an eruption of Vesuvius as they would to a picture-gallery or an opera; how much more terrible, accompanied by the certainty of impending death, to those whom neither history nor experience had familiarized with the most awful phenomenon presented by nature. At this, or possibly an earlier moment, the love of life proved too strong for the social affections of the owner of the house. He fled, abandoning to their fate a numerous family, and a young and beautiful daughter, and bent his way, with his most precious movables, accompanied only by a single slave, to the sea, which he never reached alive. His daughter, two children, and other members of his family and household sought protection in the subterranean vaults, which, by the help of the wine-jars already stored there, and the provisions which they brought down with them, they probably considered as sufficient refuge against an evil of which they could not guess the whole extent. It was a vain hope; the same fate awaited them all by different ways. The strong vaults and narrow openings to the day protected them, indeed, from the falling cinders; but the heat, sufficient to char wood, and volatilize the more subtle part of the ashes, could not be kept out by such means. The vital air was changed into a sulphurous vapor, charged with burning dust. In their despair, longing for the pure breath of heaven, they rushed to the door, already choked with scoriæ and ruins, and perished in agonies on which the imagination does not willingly dwell.

This the reader will probably be inclined to think might do very well for the conclusion of a romance, but why invent such sentimental stories to figure in a grave historical account? It is a remarkable instance, perhaps the strongest which has yet occurred, of the peculiar interest which the discoveries at Pompeii possess, as introducing us to the homes, nay, to the very persons of a long-forgotten age, that every circumstance of this tale can be verified by evidence little less than conclusive. Beside the garden gate, marked P, two skeletons were found; one presumed to be the master, had in his hand the key of that gate, and near him were about a hundred gold and silver coins; the other, stretched beside some silver vases, was probably a slave charged with the transport of them. When the vaults beneath the room, D, were discovered, at the foot of the staircase, H, the skeletons of eighteen adult persons, a boy and an infant were found huddled up together, unmoved during seventeen centuries since they sank in death. They were covered by several feet of ashes of extreme fineness, evidently slowly borne in through the vent-holes, and afterwards consolidated by damp. The substance thus formed resembles the sand used by metal founders for castings, but is yet more delicate, and took perfect impressions of everything on which it lay. Unfortunately this property was not observed until almost too late, and little was preserved except the neck and breast of a girl, which are said to display extraordinary beauty of form. So exact is the impression, that the very texture of the dress in which she was clothed is apparent, which by its extraordinary fineness evidently shows that she had not been a slave, and may be taken for the fine gauze which Seneca calls woven wind. On other fragments the impression of jewels worn on the neck and arms is distinct, and marks that several members of the family here perished. The jewels themselves were found beside them, comprising, in gold, two necklaces, one set with blue stones, and four rings, containing engraved gems. Two of the skeletons belonged to children, and some of their blonde hair was still existent; most of them are said to have been recognized as female. Each sex probably acted in conformity to its character, the men trusting to their own strength to escape, the women waiting with patience the issue of a danger from which their own exertions could not save them.

In the same vault bronze candelabra and other articles, jewels and coins were found. Amphoræ were also found ranged against the wall, in some of which the contents, dried and hardened by time, were still preserved. Archæologists, it is said, pretend to recognize in this substance the flavor of the rich strong wine for which the neighborhood of Vesuvius is celebrated.

Besides the interior garden within the portico, there must have been another garden extending along the southern side of the house. The passage from the peristyle, 7, the position of the elliptic chamber, 16, and the trellis work, Q, with its spacious steps, leave no doubt on this subject. It has been stated in a German periodical that traces of the plowshare have been distinguished in the fields adjoining this villa. This is the only authority we have for supposing that the process of excavation has been extended at all beyond the house itself. The garden to the south is still, to the best of our information, uncleared, nor is it likely that it contains objects of sufficient interest to recompense the labor which would be consumed in laying it open. Our limited knowledge of ancient horticulture is not therefore likely to be increased by means of Pompeii; for such small flower-pots as are attached to houses within the town can not contain anything worth notice beyond a fountain or a summer triclinium.

We will do our best, however, to complete the reader's notion of an Italian villa, and show what might have been, since we can not show what has been here, by borrowing Pliny's account of the garden attached to his Tuscan villa, the only account of a Roman garden which has come down to us.

"In front of the house lies a spacious hippodrome, entirely open in the middle, by which means the eye, upon your first entrance, takes in its whole extent at one view. It is encompassed on every side with plane trees covered with ivy, so that while their heads flourish with their own green, their bodies enjoy a borrowed verdure; and thus the ivy twining round the trunk and branches, spreads from tree to tree and connects them together. Between each plane tree are placed box trees, and behind these, bay trees, which blend their shade with that of the planes. This plantation, forming a straight boundary on both sides of the hippodrome, bends at the further end into a semi-circle, which, being set round and sheltered with cypresses, casts a deeper and more gloomy shade; while the inward circular walks (for there are several) enjoying an open exposure, are full of roses, and correct the coolness of the shade by the warmth of the sun.

"Having passed through these several winding alleys, you enter a straight walk, which breaks out into a variety of others, divided by box edges. In one place you have a little meadow; in another the box is cut into a thousand different forms, sometimes into letters; here expressing the name of the master, there that of the artificer; while here and there little obelisks rise, intermixed with fruit trees; when on a sudden, in the midst of this elegant regularity, you are surprised with an imitation of the negligent beauties of rural nature, in the centre of which lies a spot surrounded with a knot of dwarf plane trees. Beyond this is a walk, interspersed with the smooth and twining acanthus, where the trees are also cut into a variety of names and shapes. At the upper end is an alcove of white marble, shaded with vines, supported by four small columns of Carystian marble. Here is a triclinium, out of which the water, gushing through several little pipes, as if it were pressed out by the weight of the persons who repose upon it, falls into a stone cistern underneath, from whence it is received into a fine polished marble basin, so artfully contrived that it is always full without ever overflowing. When I sup here, this basin serves for a table, the larger sort of dishes being placed round the margin, while the smaller swim about in the form of little vessels and water-fowl.

"Corresponding to this is a fountain, which is incessantly emptying and filling; for the water, which it throws up to a great height, falling back again into it, is returned as fast as it is received, by means of two openings.

"Fronting the alcove stands a summer-house of exquisite marble, whose doors project and open into a green enclosure, while from its upper and lower windows also the eye is presented with a variety of different verdures. Next to this is a little private closet, which, though it seems distinct, may be laid into the same room, furnished with a couch; and notwithstanding it has windows on every side, yet it enjoys a very agreeable gloominess, by means of a spreading vine, which climbs to the top and entirely overshades it. Here you may lie and fancy yourself in a wood, with this difference only, that you are not exposed to the weather. In this place a fountain also rises, and instantly disappears. In different quarters are disposed several marble seats, which serve, as well as the summer-house, as so many reliefs after one is tired of walking. Near each seat is a little fountain, and throughout the whole hippodrome several small rills run murmuring along, wheresoever the hand of art thought proper to conduct them, watering here and there different spots of verdure, and in their progress refreshing the whole."

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STORES AND EATING HOUSES.

To notice all the houses excavated at Pompeii, would be wearisome in the extreme. We intend therefore merely to select some of the most important, to be described at length, the arrangement of which may serve, with variations according to place and circumstances, as a type of the whole. Some, which offer no particularity in their construction, are remarkable for the beauty of their paintings or other decorations; and, indeed, it is from the paintings on the walls that many of the houses have derived their names. Some again are designated from mosaics or inscriptions on the threshold, from the trade or profession evidently exercised by the proprietors, or from some accident, as the presence of distinguished persons at their excavation--as, for instance, those called the House of the Emperor Joseph II., del Gran Duca, degli Scienziati, etc. As it is the object of this work to convey a general notion of the remains of Pompeii, and to exhibit, as far as our materials will permit, the private life of the first century in all its degrees, we shall begin with one or two of the stores. These present great similarity in their arrangements, and indicate that the tribe of storekeepers was very inferior in wealth and comfort to that of our own time and country. They are for the most part very small, and sometimes without any interior apartment on the ground floor. The upper floor must have comprised one or two sleeping-rooms; but there is, as we believe, only one house in which the upper floor is in existence.

It is rare at Pompeii to see a whole house set apart for purposes of trade, a part being occupied by the store itself, the rest furnishing a comfortable dwelling for the owner. The houses of the richer classes, instead of presenting a handsome elevation to the street, were usually surrounded with stores. They furnished considerable revenue.

Cicero, in a letter to Atticus, speaks of the ruinous state into which some of his stores had fallen, "insomuch that not only the men, but the mice had quitted them," and hints at the gain which he hoped to derive from this seemingly untoward circumstance. One Julia Felix possessed nine hundred stores, as we learn from an inscription in Pompeii.

At night the whole front was closed with shutters, sliding in grooves cut in the lintel and basement wall before the counter, and by the door, which is thrown far back, so as to be hardly visible.

There is an oven at the end of the counter furthest from the street, and three steps have been presumed to support different sorts of vessels or measures for liquids. From these indications it is supposed to have been a cook's shop; for the sale, perhaps, both of undressed and dressed provisions, as is indicated in the view. The oven probably served to prepare, and keep constantly hot, some popular dishes for the service of any chance customer; the jars might hold oil, olives, or the fish-pickle called _garum_, an article of the highest importance in a Roman kitchen, for the manufacture of which Pompeii was celebrated.[16]

Fixed vessels appear inconvenient for such uses on account of the difficulty of cleaning them out; but the practice, it is said, continues to this day at Rome, where the small shopkeepers keep their oil in similar jars, fixed in a counter of masonry. All the ornaments in the view are copied from Pompeii. In front of the store, which stands opposite the passage leading behind the small theatre to the Soldiers' Quarters, are three stepping-stones, to enable persons to cross the road without wetting their feet in bad weather.

In conjunction with a street view, we give the view of another shop, which has also a counter containing jars for the reception of some liquid commodity. By some it is called a Thermopolium, or store for the sale of hot drinks, while others call it an oil store. In front is a fountain. It is situated at the angle of the street immediately adjoining the House of Pansa. The left-hand street leads to the Gate of Herculaneum; the right, skirting Pansa's house, is terminated by the city walls.

Tracks of wheels are very visible on the pavement. The interior was gaily painted in blue panels and red borders, as we learn from the colored view in Mr. Donaldson's Pompeii, from which this is taken. The counter is faced and covered with marble. Numerous thermopolia have been discovered in Pompeii, many of them identified, or supposed to be identified, by the stains left upon the counters by wet glasses.

In the centre is a small altar, placed before a niche, ornamented with the painting of some goddess holding a cornucopia. She is reposing on a couch, closely resembling a modern French bed. The mattress is white, striped with violet, and spotted with gold; the cushion is violet. The tunic of the goddess is blue, the bed, the table, and the cornucopia, gold. This house stands just by the gate of Herculaneum, adjoining the broad flight of steps which leads up to the ramparts. Bonucci supposes that it belonged to the officer appointed to take charge of the gate and walls.

We may take this opportunity to describe the nature and arrangement of the triclinium, of which such frequent mention has been made. In the earlier times of Rome, men sat at table--the habit of reclining was introduced from Carthage after the Punic wars. At first these beds were clumsy in form, and covered with mattresses stuffed with rushes or straw. Hair and wool mattresses were introduced from Gaul at a later period, and were soon followed by cushions stuffed with feathers. At first these tricliniary beds were small, low, and round, and made of wood; afterwards, in the time of Augustus, square and highly ornamented couches came into fashion. In the reign of Tiberius they began to be veneered with costly woods or tortoiseshell, and were covered with valuable embroideries, the richest of which came from Babylon, and cost incredible sums.

Each couch contained three persons, and, properly, the whole arrangement consisted of three couches, so that the number at table did not exceed the number of the Muses, and each person had his seat according to his rank and dignity. The places were thus appropriated: 1. The host. 2. His wife. 3. Guest. 4. Consular place, or place of honor. This was the most convenient situation at table, because he who occupied it, resting on his left arm, could easily with his right reach any part of the table without inconvenience to his neighbors. It was, therefore, set apart for the person of highest rank. 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. Other guests.

The entertainment itself usually comprised three services; the first consisting of fresh eggs, olives, oysters, salad, and other light delicacies; the second of made dishes, fish, and roast meats; the third of pastry, confectionery, and fruits. A remarkable painting, discovered at Pompeii, gives a curious idea of a complete feast. It represents a table set out with every requisite for a grand dinner. In the centre is a large dish, in which four peacocks are placed, one at each corner, forming a magnificent dome with their tails. All round are lobsters--one holding in his claws a blue egg, a second an oyster, a third a stuffed rat, a fourth a little basket full of grasshoppers. Four dishes of fish decorate the bottom, above which are several partridges, and hares, and squirrels, each holding its head between its paws. The whole is surrounded by something resembling a German sausage; then comes a row of yolks of eggs; then a row of peaches, small melons, and cherries; and lastly, a row of vegetables of different sorts. The whole is covered with a sort of green-colored sauce.

Another house, also of the minor class, yet superior to any hitherto described, is recommended to our notice by the beauty of the paintings found. That the proprietor was not rich is evident from its limited extent and accommodation; yet he had some small property, as we may infer from the shop communicating with the house, in which were sold such articles of agricultural produce as were not required for the use of the family.

This house was formerly decorated with paintings taken from the Odyssey, and from the elegant fictions of Grecian mythology. When Mazois visited it in 1812, two paintings in the atrium were still in existence, though in a very perishing state. Shortly after he had copied them they fell, owing to the plaster detaching itself from the wall. One of them is taken from the Odyssey, and represents Ulysses and Circe, at the moment when the hero, having drunk the charmed cup with impunity, by virtue of the antidote given him by Mercury, draws his sword and advances to avenge his companions.[17] The goddess, terrified, makes her submission at once, as described by Homer, while her two attendants fly in alarm; yet one of them, with a natural curiosity, can not resist the temptation to look back, and observe the termination of so unexpected a scene. Circe uses the very gesture of supplication so constantly described by Homer and the tragedians, as she sinks on her knees, extending one hand to clasp the knees of Ulysses, with the other endeavoring to touch his beard.[18] This picture is remarkable, as teaching us the origin of that ugly and unmeaning glory with which the heads of saints are often surrounded. The Italians borrowed it from the Greek artists of the lower empire, in whose paintings it generally has the appearance, as we believe, of a solid plate of gold. The glory round Circe's head has the same character, the outer limb or circle being strongly defined, not shaded off and divining into rays, as we usually see it in the Italian school. This glory was called nimbus, or aureola, and is defined by Servius to be "the luminous fluid which encircles the heads of the gods." It belongs with peculiar propriety to Circe, as the daughter of the sun. The emperors, with their usual modesty, assumed it as the mark of their divinity; and, under this respectable patronage, it passed, like many other Pagan superstitions and customs, in the use of the church.

The other picture represents Achilles at Scyros, where Thetis had hidden him among the daughters of Lycomedes, to prevent his engaging in the Trojan war. Ulysses discovered him by bringing for sale arms mixed with female trinkets, in the character of a merchant. The story is well known. The painting represents the moment when the young hero is seizing the arms. Deidamia seems not to know what to make of the matter, and tries to hold him back, while Ulysses is seen behind with his finger on his lips, closely observing all that passes.

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HOUSES OF PANSA AND SALLUST.

The two compartments marked 30 are houses of a very mean class, having formerly an upper story. Behind the last of them is a court, which gives light to one of the chambers of Pansa's house. On the other side of the island or block are three houses (32), small, but of much more respectable extent and accommodation, which probably were also meant to be let. In that nearest the garden were found the skeletons of four women, with gold ear and finger rings having engraved stones, besides other valuables; showing that such _inquilini_ or lodgers, were not always of the lowest class.

The best view of this house is from the front of the doorway. It offers to the eye, successively, the doorway, the prothyrum, the atrium, with its impluvium, the Ionic peristyle, and the garden wall, with Vesuvius in the distance. The entrance is decorated with two pilasters of the Corinthian order. Besides the outer door, there was another at the end of the prothyrum, to secure the atrium against too early intrusion. The latter apartment was paved with marble, with a gentle inclination towards the impluvium. Through the tablinum the peristyle is seen, with two of its Ionic capitals still remaining. The columns are sixteen in number, fluted, except for about one-third of their height from the bottom. They are made of a volcanic stone, and, with their capitals, are of good execution. But at some period subsequent to the erection of the house, probably after the earthquake, A.D. 63, they have been covered with hard stucco, and large leaves of the same material set under the volutes, so as to transform them into a sort of pseudo-Corinthian, or Composite order. It is not impossible that the exclusively Italian order, which we call Composite, may have originated in a similar caprice. Of the disposition of the garden, which occupied the open part of the peristyle, we have little to say. Probably it was planted with choice flowers. Slabs of marble were placed at the angles to receive the drippings of the roof, which were conducted by metal conduits into the central basin, which is about six feet in depth, and was painted green. In the centre of it there stood a jet d'eau, as there are indications enough to prove. This apartment, if such it may be called, was unusually spacious, measuring about sixty-five feet by fifty. The height of the columns was equal to the width of the colonnade, about sixteen feet. Their unfluted part is painted yellow, the rest is coated with white stucco. The floor is elevated two steps above the level of the tablinum.

A curious religious painting, now almost effaced, was found in the kitchen, representing the worship offered to the Lares, under whose protection and custody the provisions and all the cooking utensils were placed. In the centre is a sacrifice in honor of those deities, who are represented below in the usual form of two huge serpents brooding over an altar. There is something remarkable in the upper figures. The female figure in the centre holds a cornucopia, and each of the male figures holds a small vase in the hand nearer to the altar, and a horn in the other. All the faces are quite black, and the heads of the male figures are surrounded with something resembling a glory. Their dress in general, and especially their boots, which are just like the Hungarian boots now worn on the stage, appear different from anything which is to be met with elsewhere. Are these figures meant for the Lares themselves? On each side are represented different sorts of eatables. On the left a bunch of small birds, a string of fish, a boar with a girth about his body, and a magnificently curling tail, and a few loaves, or rather cakes, of the precise pattern of some which have been found in Pompeii: on the right, an eel spitted on a wire, a ham, a boar's head, and a joint of meat, which, as pig-meat seems to have been in request here, we may conjecture to be a loin of pork; at least it is as like that as anything else. It is suspended by a reed, as is still done at Rome. The execution of this painting is coarse and careless in the extreme, yet there is a spirit and freedom of touch which has hit off the character of the objects represented, and forbids us to impute the negligence which is displayed to incapacity. Another object of interest in the kitchen is a stove for stews and similar preparations, very much like those charcoal stoves which are seen in extensive kitchens at the present day. Before it lie a knife, strainers, and a strange-looking sort of a frying-pan, with four spherical cavities, as if it were meant to cook eggs. A similar one, containing twenty-nine egg-holes, has been found, which is circular, about fifteen inches in diameter, and without a handle. Another article of kitchen furniture is a sort of flat ladle pierced with holes, said to belong to the class called _trua_. It was meant apparently to stir up vegetables, etc., while boiling, and to strain the water from them.

This house has been long excavated, and perhaps that is the reason that, considering its extent and splendor, the notices of it are particularly meagre. Of the decorations we have been able to procure no detailed accounts, though several paintings are said to have been found in it, and among them, one of Danae amid the golden shower, deserving of notice. Of the garden little can be said, for little is known. According to the best indications which Mazois could observe, it consisted of a number of straight parallel beds, divided by narrow paths, which gave access to them for horticultural purposes, but with no walk for air and exercise except the portico which adjoins the house.

Inferior to the House of Pansa, and to some others in size, but second to none in elegance of decoration and in the interest which it excites, is a house in the street leading from the Gate of Herculaneum to the Forum, called by some the House of Actæon, from a painting found in it; by others the House of Caius Sallustius. It occupies the southernmost portion of an insula extending backwards to the city walls.

It is remarkable that the architects of Pompeii seem to have been careless for the most part whether they built on a regular or an irregular area. The practice of surrounding the owner's abode with shops, enabled them to turn to advantage the sides and corners of any piece of ground, however misshapen. Thus in another plan the apartments of the dwelling-houses are almost all well shaped and rectangular, though not one of the four angles of the area is a right angle.

The general view of this house is taken from the street in front, and runs completely through to the garden wall. One of the pilasters which flank the doorway has its capital still in good preservation. It is cut out of gray lava, and represents a Silenus and Faun side by side, each holding one end of an empty leather bottle, thrown over their shoulders. Ornaments of this character, which can be comprehended under none of the orders of architecture, are common in Pompeii, and far from unpleasing in their effect, however contrary to established principles. On the right is the large opening into the vestibule. In the centre of the view is the atrium, easily recognized by the impluvium, and beyond it through the tablinum are seen the pillars of the portico. Beyond the impluvium is the place of a small altar for the worship of the Lares. A bronze hind, through the mouth of which a stream of water flowed, formerly stood in the centre of the basin. It bore a figure of Hercules upon its back.

The walls of the atrium and tablinum are curiously stuccoed in large raised panels, with deep channels between them, the panels being painted of different colors, strongly contrasted with each other.

We find among them different shades of the same color, several reds, for instance, as sinopis, cinnabar, and others. This sort of decoration has caused some persons to call this the house of a color-seller--a conjecture entirely at variance with the luxury and elegance which reign in it. The floor was of red cement, with bits of white marble imbedded in it.

The altar in the atrium and the little oratory in the left-hand ala belong to the worship of the Lares _domestici_ or _familiares_, as is indicated by the paintings found in the false doorway, but now removed. They consisted of a serpent below and a group of four figures above, employed in celebrating a sacrifice to these gods.

In the centre is a tripod, into which a priest, his head covered, is pouring the contents of a patera. On each side are two young men, dressed alike, apparently in the prætexta; at least their robes are white, and there is a double red stripe down the front of their tunics, and a red drapery is thrown over the shoulders of each. In one hand each holds a patera; in the other each holds aloft a cow's horn perforated at the small end, through which a stream is spouting into the patera at a considerable distance. This, though an inconvenient, seems to have been a common drinking-vessel. The method of using it has already been described. In the background is a man playing on the double flute.

The worship of the Lares was thus publicly represented, and their images were exposed to view, that all persons might have an opportunity of saluting them and invoking prosperity on the house. Noble families had also a place of domestic worship (_adytum_ or _penetrale_) in the most retired part of their mansions, where their most valuable records and hereditary memorials were preserved.

The worship of these little deities (_Dii minuti_, or _patellarii_) was universally popular, partly perhaps on account of its economical nature, for they seem to have been satisfied with anything that came to hand, partly perhaps from a sort of feeling of good fellowship in them and towards them, like that connected with the Brownies and Cluricaunes, and other household goblins of northern extraction.

Like those goblins they were represented sometimes under very grotesque forms. There is a bronze figure of one found at Herculaneum, and figured in the Antiquites d'Herculanum, plate xvii. vol. viii., which represents a little old man sitting on the ground with his knees up to his chin, a huge head, ass's ears, a long beard, and a roguish face, which would agree well with our notion of a Brownie. Their statues were often placed behind the door, as having power to keep out all things hurtful, especially evil genii. Respected as they were, they sometimes met with rough treatment, and were kicked or cuffed, or thrown out of window without ceremony, if any unlucky accident had chanced through their neglect. Sometimes they were imaged under the form of dogs, the emblems of fidelity and watchfulness, sometimes, like their brethren of the highways (Lares compitales), in the shape of serpents.

The tutelary genii of men or places, a class of beings closely allied to Lares, were supposed to manifest themselves in the same shape: as, for example, a sacred serpent was believed at Athens to keep watch in the temple of Athene in the Acropolis. Hence paintings of these animals became in some sort the guardians of the spot in which they were set up, like images of saints in Roman Catholic countries, and not unfrequently were employed when it was wished to secure any place from irreverent treatment.

From these associations the presence of serpents came to be considered of good omen, and by a natural consequence they were kept (a harmless sort of course) in the houses, where they nestled about the altars, and came out like dogs or cats to be patted by the visitors, and beg for something to eat. Nay, at table, if we may build upon insulated passages, they crept about the cups of the guests; and in hot weather ladies would use them as live boas, and twist them round their necks for the sake of coolness.

Martial, however, our authority for this, seems to consider it as an odd taste. Virgil, therefore, in a fine passage, in which he has availed himself of the divine nature attributed to serpents, is only describing a scene which he may often have witnessed:

Scarce had he finished, when with speckled pride,
A serpent from the tomb began to glide;
His hugy bulk on seven high volumes rolled;
Blue was his breadth of back, but streaked with scaly gold;
Thus, riding on his curls, he seemed to pass
A rolling fire along, and singe the grass.
More various colors through his body run,
Than Iris, when her bow imbibes the sun.
Betwixt the rising altars, and around,
The rolling monster shot along the ground.
With harmless play amidst the bowls he passed,
And with his lolling tongue assayed the taste;
Thus fed with holy food, the wondrous guest
Within the hollow tomb retired to rest.
The pious prince, surprised at what he viewed,
The funeral honors with more zeal renewed;
Doubtful if this the place's genius were,
Or guardian of his father's sepulchre.

We may conjecture from the paintings, which bear a marked resemblance to one another, that these snakes were of considerable size, and of the same species, probably that called Æsculapius, which was brought from Epidaurus to Rome with the worship of the god, and, as we are told by Pliny, was commonly fed in the houses of Rome. These sacred animals made war on the rats and mice, and thus kept down one species of vermin; but as they bore a charmed life, and no one laid violent hands on them, they multiplied so fast, that, like the monkeys of Benares, they became an intolerable nuisance. The frequent fires at Rome were the only things that kept them under.

Passing through the tablinum, we enter the portico of the xystus, or garden, a spot small in extent, but full of ornament and of beauty, though not that sort of beauty which the notion of a garden suggests to us. It is not larger than a city garden, the object of our continual ridicule; yet while the latter is ornamented only with one or two scraggy poplars, and a few gooseberry-bushes with many more thorns than leaves, the former is elegantly decorated by the hand of art, and set apart as the favorite retreat of festive pleasure. True it is that the climate of Italy suits out-of-door amusements better than our own, and that Pompeii was not exposed to that plague of soot which soon turns marble goddesses into chimney-sweepers. The portico is composed of columns, fluted and corded, the lower portion of them painted blue, without pedestals, yet approaching to the Roman rather than to the Grecian Doric. The entablature is gone. From the portico we ascend by three steps to the xystus. Its small extent, not exceeding in its greatest dimensions seventy feet by twenty, did not permit trees, hardly even shrubs, to be planted in it. The centre, therefore, was occupied by a pavement, and on each side boxes filled with earth were ranged for flowers; while, to make amends for the want of real verdure, the whole wall opposite the portico is painted with trellises and fountains, and birds drinking from them; and above, with thickets enriched and ornamented with numerous tribes of their winged inhabitants.

The most interesting discoveries at Pompeii are those which throw light on, or confirm passages of ancient authors. Exactly the same style of ornament is described by Pliny the Younger as existing in his Tuscan villa. "Another cubiculum is adorned with sculptured marble for the height of the podium; above which is a painting of trees, and birds sitting on them, not inferior in elegance to the marble itself. Under it is a small fountain, and in the fountain a cup, round which the playing of several small water-pipes makes a most agreeable murmur." At the end of this branch of the garden, which is shaped like an L, we see an interesting monument of the customs of private life. It is a summer triclinium, in plan like that which has been mentioned in the preceding chapter, but much more elegantly decorated. The couches are of masonry, intended to be covered with mattresses and rich tapestry when the feast was to be held here: the round table in the centre was of marble. Above it was a trellis, as is shown by the square pillars in front and the holes in the walls which enclose two sides of the triclinium. These walls are elegantly painted in panels, in the prevailing taste; but above the panelling there is a whimsical frieze, appropriate to the purpose of this little pavilion, consisting of all sorts of eatables which can be introduced at a feast. When Mazois first saw it the colors were fresh and beautiful; but when he wrote, after a lapse of ten years, it was already in decay, and ere now it has probably disappeared, so perishable are all those beauties which can not be protected from the inclemency of the weather by removal. In front a stream of water pours into a basin from the wall, on which, half painted, half raised in relief, is a mimic fountain surmounted by a stag. Between the fountain and triclinium, in a line between the two pilasters which supported the trellis, was a small altar, on which the due libations might be poured by the festive party. In the other limb of the garden is a small furnace, probably intended to keep water constantly hot for the use of those who preferred warm potations. Usually the Romans drank their wine mixed with snow, and clarified through a strainer, of which there are many in the Museum of Naples, curiously pierced in intricate patterns; but those who were under medical care were not always suffered to enjoy this luxury. Martial laments his being condemned by his physician to drink no cold wine, and concludes with wishing that his enviers may have nothing but warm water. At the other end of the garden, opposite the front of the triclinium, was a cistern which collected the rain waters, whence they were drawn for the use of the garden and of the house. There was also a cistern at the end of the portico, next the triclinium.

The several rooms to the left of the atrium offer nothing remarkable. On the right, however, as will be evident upon inspecting the plan, a suite of apartments existed, carefully detached from the remainder of the house, and communicating only with the atrium by a single passage. The disposition and the ornaments of this portion of the house prove that it was a private _venereum_, a place, if not consecrated to the goddess from whom it derives its name, at least especially devoted to her service. The strictest privacy has been studied in its arrangements; no building overlooks it; the only entrance is closed by two doors, both of which we may conjecture, were never suffered to be open at once; and beside them was the apartment of a slave, whose duty was to act as porter and prevent intrusion. Passing the second door, the visitor found himself under a portico supported by octagonal columns, with a court or open area in the centre, and in the middle of it a small basin. At each end of the portico is a small cabinet, with appropriate paintings: in one of them a painting of Venus, Mars, and Cupid is conspicuous.

The apartments were paved with marble, and the walls lined breast-high with the same material. A niche in the cabinet nearest the triclinium contained a small image, a gold vase, a gold coin, and twelve bronze medals of the reign of Vespasian; and near this spot were found eight small bronze columns, which appear to have formed part of a bed.

In the adjoining lane four skeletons were found, apparently a female attended by three slaves; the tenant perhaps of this elegant apartment. Beside her was a round plate of silver, which probably was a mirror, together with several golden rings set with engraved stones, two ear-rings, and five bracelets of the same metal.

Both cabinets had glazed windows, which commanded a view of the court and of each other; it is conjectured that they were provided with curtains. The court itself presents no trace of pavement, and, therefore, probably served as a garden.

The ground of the wall is black, a color well calculated to set off doubtful complexions to the best advantage, while its sombre aspect is redeemed by a profusion of gold-colored ornament, in the most elegant taste. The columns were painted with the color called _sinopis Ponticum_, a species of red ochre of brilliant tint. Nearly all the wall of the court between the cabinets is occupied by a large painting of Actæon, from which the house derives one of its names; on either side it is flanked by the representation of a statue on a high pedestal. The centre piece comprises a double action. In one part we see a rocky grotto, in which Diana was bathing when the unwary hunter made his appearance above: in the other he is torn by his own dogs, a severe punishment for an unintentional intrusion. The background represents a wild and mountainous landscape. A painted frieze, and other paintings on the walls, complete the decorations of the portico.

The large apartment was a triclinium for the use of this portion of the house, where the place of the table, and of the beds which surrounded it on three sides, was marked by a mosaic pavement. Over the left-hand portico there was a terrace. The space marked 36 contained the stair which gave access to it, a stove connected probably with the service of the triclinium and other conveniences.

In the centre room is the opening into the tablinum, which probably was only separated from the atrium by curtains (_parapetasmata_), which might be drawn or undrawn at pleasure. Through the tablinum the pillars of the peristyle and the fountain painted on the garden wall are seen. To the right of the tablinum is the fauces, and on each side of the atrium the alæ are seen, partly shut off, like the tablinum, by handsome draperies. The nearer doors belong to chambers which open into the atrium. Above the colored courses of stucco blocks the walls are painted in the light, almost Chinese style of architecture, which is so common, and a row of scenic masks fills the place of a cornice. The ceiling is richly fretted.

The compluvium also was ornamented with a row of triangular tiles called antefixes, on which a mask or some other object was moulded in relief. Below, lions' heads are placed along the cornice at intervals, forming spouts through which the water was discharged into the impluvium beneath. Part of this cornice, found in the house of which we speak, is well deserving our notice, because it contains, within itself, specimens of three different epochs of art, at which we must suppose the house was first built, and subsequently repaired.

It is made of fine clay, with a lion's head moulded upon it, well designed, and carefully finished. It is plain, therefore, that it was not meant to be stuccoed, or the labor bestowed in its execution would have been in great part wasted. At a later period it has been coated over with the finest stucco, and additional enrichments and mouldings have been introduced, yet without injury to the design or inferiority in the workmanship; indicating that at the time of its execution the original simplicity of art had given way to a more enriched and elaborate style of ornament, yet without any perceptible decay, either in the taste of the designer or the skill of the workman.

Still later this elegant stucco cornice had been covered with a third coating of the coarsest materials, and of design and execution most barbarous, when it is considered how fine a model the artists had before their eyes.

In the restoration, the impluvium is surrounded with a mosaic border. This has disappeared, if ever there was one; but mosaics are frequently found in this situation, and it is, therefore, at all events, an allowable liberty to place one here, in a house so distinguished for the richness and elegance of its decorations.

Beside the impluvium stood a machine, now in the National Museum, for heating water, and at the same time warming the room if requisite. The high circular part, with the lid open, is a reservoir, communicating with the semi-circular piece, which is hollow, and had a spout to discharge the heated water. The three eagles placed on it are meant to support a kettle. The charcoal was contained in the square base.

In the preceding pages we have taken indiscriminately, from all quarters of the town, houses of all classes, from the smallest to the most splendid, in the belief that such would be the best way of showing the gradations of wealth and comfort, the different styles of dwelling adopted by different classes of citizens, in proportion to their means. It would, however, be manifestly impossible so to classify all the houses which contain something worthy of description, and we shall, therefore, adopt a topographical arrangement as the simplest one, commencing at the Gate of Herculaneum, and proceeding in as regular order as circumstances will permit through the excavated part of the town.

Most of the houses immediately about the gate appear to have been small inns or eating-houses, probably used chiefly by country people, who came into market, or by the lower order of travelers. Immediately to the right of it, however, at the beginning of the street called the Via Consularis, or Domitiana, there is a dwelling of a better class, called the House of the Musician, from paintings of musical instruments which ornamented the walls. Among these were the sistrum, trumpet, double flute, and others. Upon the right side of the street, however, the buildings soon improve, and in that quarter are situated some of the most remarkable mansions, in respect of extent and construction, which Pompeii affords. They stand in part upon the site of the walls which have been demolished upon this, the side next the port, for what purpose it is not very easy to say; not to make room for the growth of the city, for these houses stand at the very limit of the available ground, being partly built upon a steep rock. Hence, besides the upper floors, which have perished, they consist each of two or three stories, one below another, so that the apartments next the street are always on the highest level. Those who are familiar with the metropolis of Scotland will readily call to mind a similar mode of construction very observable on the north side of the High Street, where the ground-floor is sometimes situated about the middle of the house.

One of the most remarkable of these houses contains three stories; the first, level with the street, contains the public part of the house, the vestibule, atrium, and tablinum, which opens upon a spacious terrace. Beside these is the peristyle and other private apartments, at the back of which the terrace of which we have just spoken offers an agreeable walk for the whole breadth of the house, and forms the roof of a spacious set of apartments at a lower level, which are accessible either by a sloping passage from the street, running under the atrium, or by a staircase communicating with the peristyle. This floor contains baths, a triclinium, a spacious saloon, and other rooms necessary for the private use of a family. Behind these rooms is another terrace, which overlooks a spacious court surrounded by porticoes, and containing a piscina or reservoir in the centre. The pillars on the side next the house are somewhat higher than on the other three sides, so as to give the terrace there a greater elevation. Below this second story there is yet a third, in part under ground, which contains another set of baths, and, besides apartments for other purposes, the lodging of the slaves. This was divided into little cells, scarcely the length of a man, dark and damp; and we can not enter into it without a lively feeling of the wretched state to which these beings were reduced.

A few steps further on the same side, is another house somewhat of the same description, which evidently belonged to some man of importance, probably to Julius Polybius, whose name has been found in several inscriptions. Fragments of richly-gilt stucco-work enable us to estimate the richness of its decoration and the probable wealth of its owner. It will be readily distinguished by its immense Corinthian atrium, or rather peristyle. It has the further peculiarity of having two vestibules each communicating with the street and with the atrium. The portico of the atrium is formed by arcades and piers, ornamented with attached columns, the centre being occupied by a court and fountain. These arcades appear to be enclosed by windows. Square holes, worked in the marble coping of a dwarf wall which surrounds the little court, were perfectly distinguishable, and it is concluded that they were meant to receive the window-frames.

Pliny the Younger describes a similar glazed portico at his Laurentine villa; and an antique painting, representing the baths of Faustina, gives the view of a portico, the apertures of which are entirely glazed, as we suppose them to have been here. The portico, and three apartments which communicate with it, were paved in mosaic. Attached to one of the corner piers there is a fountain. The kitchen and other apartments were below this floor. There was also an upper story, as is clear from the remains of stair-cases. This house extends to the point at which a by-street turns away from the main road to the Forum. We will now return to the gate, to describe the triangular island of houses which bounds the main street on the eastern side.

That close to the gate, called the House of the Triclinium, derives its name from a large triclinium in the centre of the peristyle, which is spacious and handsome, and bounded by the city walls. The House of the Vestals is a little further on. What claim it has to this title, except by the rule of contraries, we are at a loss to guess; seeing that the style of its decorations is very far from corresponding with that purity of thought and manners which we are accustomed to associate with the title of vestal. The paintings are numerous and beautiful, and the mosaics remarkably fine. Upon the threshold here, as in several other houses, we find the word "Salve" (Welcome), worked in mosaic. One may be seen in cut on page 30.